


last one standing

by rennik



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Gen, Hunt!Daisy Tonner, Thanks Jonny guess I'll die now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 13:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21077555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rennik/pseuds/rennik
Summary: Basira smiles at her, sharp and self-deprecating, and Daisy thinks suddenly that she loves this woman.--Spoilers for MAG158





	last one standing

There is a rhythm to the Hunt. 

Daisy can feel it, her blood pounding in her ears as she and Basira take up positions on either side of the door, watching for any sign of the other Hunters or that awful, strange being that came up out of the tunnels. The Hunt’s song is low and sweet, a deep, bass hum in her bones that pulls her spine taut and sets her teeth on edge, makes her want to curl her lips up in a snarl. _ Listen to the quiet. _ But there are gunshots and screams and that creature’s echoing laughter, and when she breathes in, slow and deep, she just gets the cloying scent of _ fear, _ clinging to the back of her throat. The air is... _ pungent _ with it. Most of it is from the poor clerks, hiding under desks or bleeding out on the Archives’ floors; some of it is Montauk and Herbert, chasing the monster, caught in the rapture of the Hunt, but the rest of it — she closes her eyes, breathes out — the rest of it is pouring from _ Basira. _

Basira, her partner, her rock, who has her gun up and her back pressed against the wall, who is watching the door and making the same calculations that Daisy is: two Hunters and a, a _ thing, _ stalking the Archive’s halls, and only Daisy and Basira standing between them and their quarry. _ Really though, only me_, Daisy can see her think, revising her math to account for the tremor in Daisy’s hands, the bags under her eyes; the results of starving herself so she doesn’t _ hurt _people anymore. Just Basira and her gun, up against three monsters, with Daisy practically helpless and dragging her down. Dead weight.

There’s a moment of silence from the other side of the door, a break in the gunshots and laughter. In the quiet, Daisy’s blood sings to her, low and sweet.

“This might be it,” Basira says. She’s looking over at Daisy, and even with monsters at the door, she keeps her composure. Doesn’t let a lick of her fear show on her face, even if Daisy can hardly breathe without choking on it.

“Basira.”

“Didn’t think it would end like this.” She pauses, laughs, readjusts her grip on her pistol. Daisy can see the gleam of sweat on her palms. “You know what, actually, I think I did.” Basira smiles at her, sharp and self-deprecating, and Daisy thinks suddenly that she loves this woman. Basira Hussain, a stone in a still pool; Basira, who does the _ right thing, _and makes Daisy feel like she could, too. With all the pride and fierceness in her heart, Daisy would give her life to keep this woman alive.

There is a rhythm to the Hunt.

Her heartbeat stutters, and starts again twice as fast.

“Basira.” Daisy stands. She can feel... _ everything. _She flexes her fingers, her toes, relishes the tension and release of muscles up and down her body. She takes deep, slow breaths. Eight months is a long time away from the Hunt, away from the chase. Her body needs time to relearn the steps. 

“Promise me something,” Daisy says. In, out. Savor the taste of fear on your tongue.

“What?” It takes less than a second for Basira to notice. “No. Daisy, _ no.” _Still composed, but anxiety flickers in the corners of her mouth, and anger, and fear. Finally, fear. Daisy wants to watch her _ break. _

She closes her eyes. “Basira. When this is over, you need to find me, and kill me.”

“No. No, Daisy, we’ll figure something out—”

“These last months I.. It was always borrowed time." Her heart aches, for a moment at the thought of _what-if _—but no. Focus._ Breathe. _ She feels _ strong _now. Healthy. Dangerous. She can almost taste the blood, the give of flesh and bone beneath her hands. She opens her eyes to meet Basira’s, and Basira looks back at her angry, so angry, so determined not to lose Daisy again. But Daisy can hear the song now, and it is rooted so, so deep within her she knows she will never be able to shut it out again. She grimaces, and feels her canines lengthen and sharpen into a feral grin. “Can’t outrun it forever.”

“_Daisy. _” 

“_Promise me.” _

Basira knows. Basira is stubborn, and angry, and afraid, but she _ knows. _And they don’t have time.

She straightens. Sets her shoulders, looks Daisy in the eyes. Basira, _ her _ rock, the last person in the world that Daisy loves.

“I promise,” she says, and her voice is as steady as the earth. 

“Thanks,” Daisy says. She closes her eyes, and burns the pillar of Basira’s form into her mind as she turns away. “Now run.” And when Basira hesitates — “_Run.” _

Basira goes.

There is a rhythm to the Hunt, and its song is building to a roar in her ears. Her heart beats to it, her blood flows for it, and in its embrace the world sharpens and clears like a blade in moonlight. Daisy opens her mouth, and tastes blood and terror pressing against her tongue.

She stalks into the Archives, and begins the Hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> It super snuck up on me how much I love Daisy... also thanks Magnus Archives for getting me to write for the first time in like five years wooo


End file.
